Shades of Black
by Kurisu
Summary: Dreams of Helga's death plague three friends after her return from Europe. Set in the future.
1. Nine Fifty-Seven

My second attempt at writing a Hey Arnold fic. This idea has been in my mind for a while now (though it started off as an original story). Please forgive any OOC behavior, though, since they are older, it would be acceptable. I tried. ^^; I don't own Hey Arnold or any of the characters.  
  
"ARNOLD!"   
He could hear her screaming....but where was she?   
"ARNOLD!!!!!!!!!!!!"   
......he couldn't find her.   
"ARNOLD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"   
The screaming echoed in his mind....he hoped...he prayed....   
_Please...please don't let her...._  
  
But he was too late.   
Her blonde hair and pale skin was stained with her blood. Tears flowed from her eyes as she saw the last of her life flash before her eyes. She was tired...so very tired....and in pain. Arnold...he had not come in time. As she closed her eyes, she didn't see him there, holding her lifeless hand, nor did she feel her pulse slowly die down.   
She was dead.   
_Helga......_   
And all that flashed in his mind was the blood-dripping knife, stained with her blood, a raven insignia carved into the dark wood of the handle. Rapidly flashing, in bright colors, were three numbers...   
957.   
******   
Arnold woke up in cold sweat. He stared at the old clock that would normally say his name once the alarm went off.   
5:15 AM.   
But he could not go back to sleep. The dream plagued his mind.   
_It's...it's just a dream._   
Somehow, he couldn't force himself to believe that it was.   
Deep in his reverie, the ringing of the phone startled him. Slowly, he reached out in the darkness to pick up the receiver.   
It was Phoebe. Why would she be calling at this hour?   
"Ar...Arnold...." she started, both shaking and crying uncontrollably.   
"What's wrong, Phoebe?!"   
"Arnold...I...I had a dream...about Helga."   
The blonde-haired man went white.   
"I did...I did too!" he said in shock.   
"So did Gerald! All three of us...she...she..."   
"She was killed."   
"Yes!" Phoebe was shaking even more. "I hope she hasn't died!"   
"I'll see in the morning. Just go back to sleep, Phoebe. I'm sure everything is fine with Helga."   
But he just couldn't believe that.   
*********   
Arnold woke up at 8 AM, feeling extremely fatigued. He didn't get back to sleep until six, all because of the dream. Lucky that it was Sunday, he got out of his bed and proceeded to the bathroom. Splashing water on his face to wake him up, he stared at his reflection in the mirror.   
It was Helga that said he grew up beautiful.   
The spiky, golden hair had grown longer, and fell to the sides of his head, a few bangs in his eyes. His body was no longer out of proportion with his head, but actually made it seem that he looked normal. He was also taller, probably taller than Helga herself (who actually used to be taller than him--growth spurt?). Green eyes sparkled in the bathroom light. Helga had written a poem about his eyes...before she left.   
Helga.   
Why was he still thinking about her? It wasn't until recently that she came back to the city, and changed from the bully he knew to the poetic introvert he only saw in glimpses...when she was brave enough to let down her barrier. Needless to say, he loved her now that she was her true self...   
He saw something in her eyes...a hint of sadness, before she left for Europe. He said that she was her best friend--what happened? Phoebe was nearby as she boarded the plane, and he could've sworn she said he was "dense" under her breath. Come to think of it, Phoebe has said that a lot. Maybe it was true. But about what?   
Phoebe had married his best friend, Gerald, shortly after college. He hadn't heard the Asian girl call him "dense" until Helga came back for their wedding, changed, which shocked him...to put it mildly.   
That's when she said he grew up beautiful. And she had...as well.   
Arnold gripped the bathroom sink. Was he...falling for Helga? He had been contemplating that since she came for Gerald and Phoebe's wedding, and left for Europe a few months ago. But the more he thought about her....beautiful soul, golden hair, shining blue eyes...the more he began to fall into this strange feeling...   
Maybe that's why he couldn't sleep last night. He was afraid for Helga.   
He brushed back his hair with his fingers and walked to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. Sunlight shone from the window near the sink in the small kitchen. Sometimes, he could see the kids playing their baseball game in the street, and it always brought back memories of those happier times in his childhood. It was a nice thought to have in mind on a day like this.   
It made him think of Helga...of all the times she bullied him around. He hated it then. But now, it always got a laugh out of him. Arnold knew she hadn't meant everything she said back then...maybe she just needed him as a friend, besides Phoebe. As someone she could depend on, but afraid to ask.   
Then, the phone rang. As he picked it up, a familiar voice was heard through the receiver.   
"Hey Arnold!" it said cheerfully. He smiled, happiness filling him.   
"Helga! Are you okay?" Arnold could've sworn he heard her blink.   
"I'm...fine. I just got back. Can you please come pick me up from the airport? Gerald and Phoebe aren't home."   
_Gerald must've took Phoebe somewhere to console her..._   
"Sure...I'll be there as soon as I can."   
"Thanks, Arnold." He knew she was smiling, from the tone of her voice. Hanging up, he wasted no time getting dressed and to the car. He even forgot his breakfast.   
Maybe he _was_ in love...   
********   
He sped off onto the highway, never feeling so relaxed.   
_It was only a dream._   
But somehow, he didn't feel so sure.   
It was unusual for the sun to be shining so brightly over the city, and the breeze blowing slightly. Not too hot...not too cold.   
_The calm...before the storm?_   
But what storm...?   
********   
Helga sat on a bench outside the airport, quietly writing a poem. For the whole year she had been gone, all she could think (and write) about was Arnold. Her love for him had never diminished, only grew more. He cared for her...at last. To even hear his voice was like she was in heaven.   
_If only he would feel more...more than just friendship._   
But she never complained. She was worried that he might leave her forever if she did.   
Helga was so lost in thought, she never noticed Arnold drive up to the side where she was.   
"Arnold!" she said, smiling, when she finally noticed. He got out of the car to help her pack her luggage into the trunk.   
"It's been a long time..." he said in an almost whisper once they were done.   
"A year." She pushed a lock of golden hair out of her eyes, revealing more of their blue depth. He could almost become lost in that sea of sapphire...   
"So, did everyone miss me?" Helga chuckled.   
"You know we all did." he replied, smiling.   
They got into the white convertible, and sped off back onto the highway. Helga began to close her eyes, as though she was savoring the moment. To them both, it was a moment of pure bliss. The two talked about Europe, Helga's new poetry book, Phoebe and Gerald...until they reached the dream.   
"A dream...? About me?" questioned Helga.   
"Yeah. Me, Gerald, Phoebe...we all had the same dream about you."   
"What was it about?"   
He couldn't say. Arnold sat there in silence.   
"What happened?!" A worried expression appeared on her face.   
"You.....you died." He didn't look at her, but knew Helga's eyes were opened wide.   
"I died? From what?"   
".....stabbing." He felt fear once again.   
Suddenly, Helga laughed. Not mockingly, but as a reassurance.   
"I'm sure it was just a dream, Arnold. I haven't died yet, have I?"   
"It scared Phoebe so much...she called me at 5 AM. I'm guessing Gerald took her out for the day to calm her down. They don't know you're back."   
"I'll go see her once I get back home."   
They sat in silence again. Arnold neared a rest stop.   
"Helga, do you mind if I stop off for a minute?"   
"Not at all." He parked the car near the small building, heading towards the restroom. Helga stared, confused.   
**********   
Arnold didn't need to use the restroom. He wanted to make sure it was all real.   
_It was a dream...why are you still scared? Helga's alive._   
Something...just something wasn't right.   
Splashing cold water on his face, he couldn't stop his body from trembling. Something....something was going to happen. He could feel it. Arnold looked at his watch. He had been in there too long.   
9:57 AM.   
From the building, he could hear a scream that made him go white in terror. He began to run out the restroom. His name...   
"ARNOLD!!!!!!!!"   
And he heard it again...   
Helga was screaming. 


	2. Four Thirty-Five

Chapter Two. ^^; I kind of lost the idea of the plot for a while but I have it back! For the disclaimer, check Chapter One. This is shorter than the last one...^^;;;;  
  
Arnold ran as fast as could, looking for a sign of the blonde-haired woman. His heart pounded, and he could have sworn tears began to fall. Through his mind, he prayed that Helga was all right, that it was nothing like the dream...   
He saw her. A figure in a black cloak held the woman down as she screamed, near tears. The knife drew closer...just as Arnold arrived.   
The figure had caught sight of him, and ran away quickly, dropping the knife. Helga closed her eyes in fear as Arnold picked her off the ground. She survived with a few scratches, but nothing serious. She could hear a sigh of relief come from him.   
"Arnold..." she managed to say, nearly breathless.   
"What...what happened, Helga?!"   
She swallowed hard, trying to speak.   
"I...I don't know! I got out the car, and this guy jumps on me, and before I know it, I'm knocked to the ground, fighting for my life..." She bit her lip, still shaking.   
"Are you all right, now?"   
She smiled. "If you can call this 'all right'."   
He caught a glance of the knife the figure had dropped. Carefully, Arnold picked it up and inspected it.   
It was a newly designed dagger. The handle was made of dark wood, a raven insignia carved into it...   
_Just like in the dream...._   
Arnold wasn't sure of anything now. He, Phoebe, and Gerald had all witnessed Helga's near-death in their dreams. No longer did Arnold believe that 'it was all just a dream'. He was convinced, now, that it was some sort of sign...   
_A warning, maybe?_   
As soon as Helga gathered her energy, they got in the car, and headed back to the city in fear...   
*******   
"It...it actually _happened_?!" said Phoebe in absolute shock.   
They arrived at Gerald and Phoebe's residence a half-hour later, still questioning the events from before. Needless to say, Phoebe had almost fainted, once from the sight of seeing Helga, and twice from her surviving. Once the Asian woman woke, they began to tell her what happened...   
"What could be going on here?" asked Gerald, more confused than ever. It hadn't helped him knowing that they almost witnessed a death.   
"Well...it has been said that Abraham Lincoln himself had dreamt of his death approximately a week before it actually happened." said Phoebe. "I would suppose...a matter such as this is the same thing..."   
"But what caused it?" said Arnold. He looked towards Helga.   
She looked just as confused as they were, and she still shook. Quietly, she took out a notebook from her luggage, and began to write. Arnold guessed that it might have been a poem of some sorts. A sigh escaped her lips.   
"It might be a number of factors, most of which are not logical enough to be...defined as a particular reason. I just hope it doesn't happen again..." Phoebe looked more worried than anyone else.   
_She's closer to Helga than any of us..._ thought the blonde man. He leaned over to catch a glimpse of what she was writing.   
"Becoming nosy, Arnoldo?" She laughed at the old nickname--she hadn't said that since they left high school.   
"What are you writing?"   
"A poem..."   
"Can I see?" he asked, smiling.   
"It's private." For a second, as she stared into his green eyes, she felt as though she was flying through them, actually swimming in them...   
Helga turned her head away, blushing. Why hasn't she gotten over this silly crush? But everytime she looked into his emerald eyes, she never felt this free...and her love just continued to grow...   
_And...he saved my life..._   
"Helga? ...." said Phoebe.   
"Oh...uh...yes?"   
"Are you feeling all right?"   
"Just tired...can I rest here for a while, before I get back to the apartment?"   
"Sure...there's a guest room down the hall."   
Helga smiled. "Thanks, Pheebs." She exited the room.   
"Arnold, man, I'm really...creeped out by this." said Gerald, shaking his head. "I mean, we have a nightmare of Helga's death, and it almost happens!"   
"Hey, you could always keep it as a legend."   
"If it keeps up, I'm sure it will."   
Arnold sighed. "What if it happens again?"   
"I'm not sure..." said Phoebe. "Only that whatever we see, we should protect Helga whenever we can. Maybe we can consult a psychiatrist of some sort..."   
"Are you sure a psychiatrist could help us, Phoebe?" asked Gerald.   
"What else is there?"   
They sat there in silence.   
Arnold stood up. "I'm gonna go see how Helga's doing."   
*********   
_She couldn't see...everything was pitch black. Desperately, she tried to run from the darkness, from the silence, but it seemed to hold her within its grasp. She could feel herself falling slowly...into a violet-colored surrounding. Deep within, she could hear someone...someone whispering to her...   
"Come with me..."   
"Who...who's there?!"   
"Helga."   
Helga turned around, only to see someone in front of her.   
It was a man, a bit younger than she was. Raven-black hair fell into violet eyes, mixing with the scenery. He held his pale hand out to her, then ran it along the sides of her shoulders. Helga immediately pushed him away.   
"Who are you?!?!"   
"You will know soon, Helga." With his touch, she could slowly feel her energy draining. He leaned in close to her ear and whispered...   
"4...3...5...the ravens...are calling you."_   
**********   
Helga was jolted awake, only to stare into the emerald-green eyes of Arnold.   
"Helga! Are you okay?!"   
She held a palm to her head. "I had...this strange dream..."   
Arnold felt that he had had enough of strange dreams for today. But he listened as she told him everything.   
"4 3 5?"   
"Yes...and he said 'The ravens are calling you'."   
The blonde man was more confused than ever. But the thought of hearing numbers made him shake. He remembered '957'. 9:57.   
That was the time Helga was supposed to die.   
Arnold checked the clock on the nightstand.   
  
It was 4:35.   
"Helga......." called Phoebe, "......there's someone here for you...."  



End file.
